‘Andy Warhol’s Tomato’ offers a surprising olive branch in the culture wars

A blue-collar bar owner (Keith Stevenson) has reservations about the unconventional signage proposed by a young Andy Warhol (Derek Chariton) in “Andy Warhol’s Tomato” at Pacific Resident Theatre. (Teak Piegdon-Brainin)
By PHILIP BRANDES
AUG. 16, 2019

Staunchly working-class Pittsburgh in 1946 was hardly an ideal incubator for creative talent. That incongruity, however, provides an inspired backdrop for the chance encounter between a disillusioned, middle-aged bar owner and a frail, 18-year-old art student destined for greatness in “Andy Warhol’s Tomato,” Vince Melocchi’s quietly touching two-hander making its debut at Pacific Resident Theatre.

The drab, close-cropped Andy depicted here by Derek Chariton is a long way from the flamboyant, leather-clad celebrity of the 1960s New York art scene. At this point, young Andy’s ambition to become a commercial artist is hanging by a thread due to failing grades in his first year of college.

With a deadline looming in his last-chance remedial drawing class, a panic attack has left Andy recovering in the basement of a neighborhood bar run by kind-hearted “Bones” Bonino (Keith Stevenson), a self-made businessman who proves surprisingly open-minded despite his gruff no-nonsense demeanor.

Warhol, himself the child of hard-working Eastern European immigrants, shares Bones’ “pull yourself up by your own bootstraps” ethos, but little else. Chariton’s richly-shaded performance is an intriguing mix of Andy’s awkward self-consciousness and unshakable confidence in his own artistic gifts, the detailed career path he’s mapped out for himself.

Andy’s fully-formed marketing savvy comes to the fore when he agrees to paint a street sign for Bones’ bar. Whether he regards Bones as a friend and benefactor or just an interesting specimen is kept deliberately ambiguous for much of the play — beneath the halting “Uhs” that punctuate his diffident banter lurks Warhol’s notorious talent for passive-aggressive manipulation.

Playwright Melocchi has clearly done his homework with respect to historical accuracy. Nevertheless, the play offers more than a biographical sketch thanks to the reciprocal fleeting connection between Chariton’s Warhol and Stevenson’s equally complex performance as Bones, a sympathetic Everyman who harbors an unfulfilled dream of becoming a writer.

Tracing assured emotional beats under Dana Jackson’s finely-tuned direction, Bones’ secret longing is rekindled by Andy’s fearless talent and encouragement. In return, the pragmatic Bones helps Andy overcome his own creative block by urging him to appreciate beauty in the mundane — a simple tomato is a miracle if you look at it the right way. Or package it in a soup can.

Amid the ongoing culture wars between urban-elite and blue-collar sensibilities, Melocchi’s period play slyly reminds us the division can be bridged by our fundamental human need to create. In the process we can become something more than what our circumstances have shaped us to be.

CRITICS CHOICE

‘Andy Warhol’s Tomato’
Where: Pacific Resident Theatre, 703 Venice Blvd., Venice
When: 8 p.m. Thursdays-Saturdays, 3 p.m. Sundays, through Sept. 22
Tickets: $25-$34
Info: (310) 822-8392 or pacificresidenttheatre.com
Running time: 1 hour, 20 minutes

Review:
Andy Warhol’s Tomato is a portrait of the artist as a young man. Warhol, who came to fame in the 1960s, is the subject of Vince Melocchi’s new play, a two-hander set in Pittsburgh, the playwright’s home town. It was there, Melocchi reports in a program note, that he was told that the teenaged Warhol had drawn pictures on napkins in a local bar in exchange for Coca-Colas. Although that bit of urban folklore turned out to be untrue, it inspired Melocchi to write the piece.

The playwright sets his 80-minute, world-premiere drama in the basement of Bonino’s bar, a neighborhood joint frequented by steel-workers. Mario “Bones” Bonino (Keith Stevenson), is a blue-collar guy himself, a hulking, tough-minded Italian-American with a secret life that leaks out when he inter-acts with the youthful Andy Warhol (Derek Chariton).

The time is the summer of 1946 and the sickly, fey but gifted Warhol has passed out in front of Bones’s bar (in real life Warhol suffered from a rare neurological disorder). The gruff but compassionate Bones has carried Warhol down to his basement to recover. What follows is an intriguing, compelling character study, one that catches you up in its truth and sensitivity as the two apparent opposites begin to develop a kinship.

Warhol’s prime possession is his sketchbook. Filled with his drawings, he hopes it will be his ticket to gaining admission to Carnegie Tech University. Bones at first is cynical about Warhol’s talent. He calls the kid Picasso and doubts whether he will ever be able to make his mark on the art world. But he is forced to change that assessment when he gets to see Warhol in action, painting a sign for his bar. What could easily have been a cliché, banal object becomes in Warhol’s hands a thing of striking beauty and originality.

As for Warhol, he too begins to appreciate and respect Bones, especially when he discovers that this seemingly crude, macho guy has an artistic side. All his life Bones has not only loved literature but yearned to write it. But because in his circles just admitting that you know how to type marks you as a fag, Bones has had to write in secret, down here in his basement, not telling anyone what he was doing. Full of doubts about his worth as a writer, he is buoyed by Warhol’s positive response to his work.

The two-would-be, struggling artists begin to bond in an us-against-the-world way, a development that is almost destroyed when the homosexual Warhol can’t hold back and makes a pass at Bones. How the latter handles this erotic move takes their relationship to a new and deeper level.

The skill of Melocchi’s writing is matched by the remarkable acting work by Stevenson and Chariton. Together they breathe life into every line of Melocchi’s text, creating flesh-and-blood characters that hold you in thrall from start to finish.

Cast:
Keith Stevenson, Derek Chariton
Technical:
Lighting/Projections: Andrew Schmedake. Set: Rich Rose. Sound: Christopher Moscatiello. Costumes: Keilani Gleave.
Critic:
Willard Manus
Date Reviewed:
August 2019

Through September 22

RECOMMENDED

Back in the ’60s, Andy Warhol was quoted as saying, “In the future, everyone will be world-famous for 15 minutes” — but his own fame clearly outpaced that prediction. He’s been the subject of films and books, and now playwright Vince Melocchi has crafted a play about the artist before he was celebrated, titled Andy Warhol’s Tomato. The world premiere production at Pacific Resident Theatre is a well-acted and entertaining addition to Warhol lore.

In 1946 small town Pennsylvania, college-age Andrew Warhola (Derek Chariton) has passed out from an anxiety attack on a city street. He wakes up in the back room of Bonino’s bar, temporarily tended to by the establishment’s owner, Bones (Keith Stevenson), until Andy’s brother can pick him up. The artistically ambitious, somewhat affected and not very covertly gay Andy and the gruff but kind blue-collar Bones couldn’t seem more different. However, as they spend more time together (Andy paints the sign for the bar), they realize that they’re both aspiring artists, each in his own way.

Chariton does a nice job of portraying Andy before the Warhol persona was fully formed, with a combination of artistic enthusiasm and curiosity mixed with touchy defensiveness and pointed humor. It’s an engaging and skilled performance, and I was struck by how credibly one could imagine this character moving to New York and becoming the artist we all know. Stevenson is excellent as Bones, and although his character, as written, is less flamboyant than Andy, he’s the heart of the play. Decency and the demanding struggle to be a good person don’t always sound charismatic, but Stevenson’s performance is affecting and subtle and seems true-to-life. This grounds the show and transforms it from what could have been a celebrity anecdote into an interesting human drama.

Dana Jackson’s sure-handed direction draws terrific work from her cast, and a moment toward the end of the show where Warhol’s sketches are projected onto part of the set provides the production with a lovely note of visual grace. Rich Rose’s detailed set — the backroom of a bar packed with stacked boxes of beer and whiskey and a convincing steam boiler — greatly adds to the story’s authenticity. Melocchi’s writing is funny and sometimes touching, and the piece is an enjoyable look at a lesser-known period of Warhol’s life. My only quibble is that sometimes it is a bit too “on the nose,” with specific explanations for various preeminent aspects of the artist’s work.

Overall, however, Andy Warhol’s Tomato is a strong and entertaining production about a unique artist. As Bones says in the play, “There is beauty in the mundane.” This show has found it.

Pacific Resident Theatre, 703 Venice Blvd., Venice; Thurs.-Sat., 8 p.m.; Sun., 3 p.m.; through Sep. 22. www.pacificresidenttheatre.com. Running time: approximately one hour and 20 minutes with no intermission.

Andy Warhol’s Tomato Review – A Creative Conundrum
August 11, 2019 Elaine Mura Entertainment

Derek Chariton and Keith Stevenson in ANDY WARHOL’S TOMATO – Photo by Teak Piegdon-Brainin Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania folklore tells about a bar where teenager Andy Warhol drew pictures on napkins in exchange for bottles of Coke: “It was a nice story, but just a story.” Inspired by this apocryphal tale, talented playwright Vince Melocchi fleshes out this bare bones fiction with infinite delicacy and gentle grace. Both Pittsburgh natives, Melocchi and Warhol would appear to share more than their roots as Melocchi plumbs the account of well-hidden talents which may never see the light of day. An official selection of the Road Theatre Company’s 1918 Summer Playwrights Festival, ANDY WARHOL’S TOMATO receives its world premiere staging and ushers in the Pacific Resident Theatre’s 1919-1920 season.

Derek Chariton and Keith Stevenson – Photo by Teak Piegdon-Brainin
Set in Homestead, a city near Pittsburgh, in the summer of 1946, naive teenager Andy Warhol (Derek Chariton) is just beginning to flap his juvenile wings when he meets Mario “Bones” Bonino (Keith Stevenson), the owner of a shabby, working-class bar. Following a mishap in the bar’s basement which results in Bonino’s favorite picture frame ending a smashed mess, Andy agrees to pay Bonino back by painting a new sign for the bar. It quickly becomes evident that both men have quite a different view of what the finished product will look like.

Keith Stevenson – Photo by Teak Piegdon-Brainin
Soon Andy has found his new safety haven – and his new but reluctant friend – within the confines of a dark cellar. And soon, despite his own upbringing, “Bonesy” takes on the role of savior and mentor for the peculiar lad. After all, Bonesy has his own secrets: he slavishly hides his writing – and even his typewriter – from his own wife and everyone in his hard-working, heavy-drinking circle. From an uneasy truce, can Andy and Bones come to an understanding about creativity and life in general? This is a play which exquisitely traces the steps.

Derek Chariston and Keith Stevenson – Photo by Teak Piegdon-Brainin
With a well-written script and two very capable actors breathing life into quirky Andy and stolid Bonesy, ANDY WARHOL’S TOMATO has taken a cute and certainly untrue story from Andy Warhol’s early life and turned it into a play with a profound and timeless message for all. Kudos for director Dana Jackson’s tender handling of dynamics which, in lesser hands, might falter. Light and projection designer Andrew Schmedake has done a brilliant job of turning the dull and dim basement into a place of light and life. Rich Rose’s scenic design has just the right grimy feel, and the entire production staff functions with creative competence. ANDY WARHOL’S TOMATO is a not-to-be-missed study of what goes into achieving the goals of self-understanding and acceptance. And, besides, it’s an entertaining and often humorous evening out.

SPLASH SELECTION

ANDY WARHOL’S TOMATO runs through September 22, 2019 with performances at 8 p.m. on Thursdays through Saturdays and at 3 p.m. on Sundays. The Pacific Resident Theatre is located at 703 Venice Blvd., Venice, CA 90291. Tickets are $25 (Thursdays and Fridays), $34 (Saturdays), and $30 (Sundays). For information and reservations, call 310-822-8392 or go online.

THE LAST FIVE YEARS

The Last Five Years, Jason Robert Brown’s exquisite musical two-hander, showcases UCLA talent to stunning effect as part of Pacific Resident Theatre’s Sunday Concert Series in the company’s newly inaugurated intimate cabaret space.

The almost entirely sung-through tale of a 20something couple whose marriage fails to withstand the pressures of his rise to literary stardom and her failure to achieve success as an actress, The Last Five Years recounts Jamie and Cathy’s love story in the most innovative of ways.

When relating the couple’s relationship from Jamie’s point of view, Brown’s musical moves in chronological order, from the aspiring novelist’s joy at finally meeting the “Shiksa Goddess” of his dreams towards a final, painful realization that no matter how hard he tried, “I Could Never Rescue You.”

Aspiring actress-singer Catherine Hiatt’s Last Five Years, on the other hand, move backwards in time, from discovering Jamie’s farewell note in “Still Hurting” to “Goodbye Until Tomorrow,” sung immediately after the couple’s first date, when there were still countless tomorrows awaiting them.

The result: Joy and sadness side-by-side and an ending that packs a bona fide emotional wallop.

Not only that, but because writer-composer Brown tells Jamie and Cathy’s story almost entirely in song (with the exception of some one-sided phone calls and a sequence which has Jamie reading aloud from his novel), audiences are treated almost nonstop to some of the most gorgeous music Jason Robert Brown has ever written.

The Last Five Years is also that rarity among chamber musicals, one that can succeed equally as a tech-heavy, high-budget, fully-orchestrated big-stage production or with nothing but a chair, an end table, and a piano as is the case at PRT.

Working to director Calvin Brady’s distinct advantage is the Concert Series stage’s double-decker configuration, a wooden staircase leading from a downstairs playing area to a second-floor walkway and door.

Brady takes ingenious advantage of both levels in the show-opening “I’m Still Hurting” that has Cathy downstairs discovering Jamie’s goodbye letter and Jamie upstairs exiting her apartment after a magical first date, a physical juxtaposition that gets reversed to striking effect in the show-closing “Goodbye Until Tomorrow/I Could Never Rescue You.”

The same upstairs walkway later becomes the pier on which Cathy sits, legs dangling, in “See I’m Smiling,” and later, in “I Can Do Better Than That,” the car where she sits with an unseen Jamie by her side.

Turning on some holiday lights and plopping a mini-Christmas tree on the piano is all the scene-setting that’s needed for Jamie to launch into a delightful, touching “The Schmuel Song,” and Jamie’s holiday gift to his newlywed bride proves an inspired choice.

Though Brady opts to have Jamie and Cathy’s love story unfold with only one of them on stage at any given time, it’s never less than clear when either of them is alone or in conversation with an unseen scene partner.

In addition, since Brady has deliberately kept one or the other offstage save scripted exceptions, the couple’s wedding day unfolds quite breathtakingly indeed in “The Next Ten Minutes,” eye contact postponed until the exact moment the couple’s crisscrossing zones have finally met and they gaze into each other’s eyes at long last.

Still, none of Brady’s directorial choices would work nearly as well without just the right Jamie and Cathy, and in UCLA TFT’s Department of Theater graduating seniors Timothy Hoffmann and Nicolette Norgaard, Class Of 2018’s Brady has found a pair of singers whose acting talents match their considerable vocal chops.

From the moment Hoffmann launches into “Shiksa Goddess,” it’s clear that the lanky, charismatic leading man will be giving Jamie the goofy humor that’s part of his charm, and later, when Jamie realizes to what extent his celebrity has made Cathy painfully aware of her mostly failed musical theater career, Hoffmann makes “If I Didn’t Believe In You” the heartfelt heartbreaker it is meant to be.

With a winsome beauty and radiance guaranteed to turn any semi-nerdy Jewish boy’s head (providing he’s got a thing for Shiksa goddesses), Norgaard tears into “Still Hurting” with a palpable ache in her voice, takes “See I’m Smiling” from joy and wonder to frustration and rage, and slips in a delicious bit of legit soprano to the end of “When You Come Home To Me.”

Eric Kong provides letter-perfect piano accompaniment throughout, and Jeremy Mann, director of singing for the UCLA School of Theater, Film and Television’s Ray Bolger Musical Theater Program, scores equally for his expert vocal direction.  Riva Brody is assistant director.

A production well worth extending beyond its brief three-performance run*, PRT’s The Last Five Years does Jason Robert Brown, Bruin talent, and Pacific Resident Theatre proud.

*Note: The Last Five years has been extended!

Pacific Resident Theatre, 703 Venice Blvd, Venice. Through June 9. Sunday June 2 at 7:30, Wednesday June 5 at 7:30, Thursday June 6 at 7:30, Friday June 7 at 7:30, and Sunday June 9 at 3:00.
www.PacificResidentTheatre.com

–Steven Stanley
May 29, 2019

By Philip Brandes
Jan 18, 2019 | 3:30 PM
Review: In ‘Like father, like son: A brilliant scientist (Zachary Grant) shares the thrill of discovery with his inventor father (Michael Mantell). (Jeff Lorch)

“Smart Love” at Pacific Resident Theatre appears destined to be a garden-variety dysfunctional family portrait, but then Brian Letscher’s new comedy unexpectedly pivots into a quirky take on romantic possibilities in a brave new world of technology.

Like so many working-class folks falling short of the American dream, the Wachowski clan at the center of Letscher’s play is coming apart at the seams. Twenty-four years of marriage all but extinguished the passion between Ron (Michael Mantell), a would-be inventor, and Sandy (Melissa Weber Bales), the long-suffering spouse who’d grown fed up with his impractical failures.

Things were better between Ron and his genius son, Benji (Zachary Grant), thanks to their shared love of science — until Ron’s sudden demise sent Benji into a hermetic retreat in his MIT lab.

Seven months later, Sandy has made progress toward moving on, as evidenced in her affectionate post-coital kitchen snack with affable local pharmacist Victor (Scott Conte). Nevertheless, Sandy hasn’t yet found the courage to tell her son about her new relationship, which comes as an unwelcome surprise when the still-traumatized Benji barges in. Trying to navigate the awkward intrusion, Sandy finds herself playing Gertrude to agitated Benji’s digital-age Hamlet.

It turns out that Benji has absconded with game-changing technology he’s developed. Without giving away too much, we’ll say Benji’s creation ultimately forces the characters to re-examine feelings, loyalties and the fundamental nature of being human.

Letscher’s whimsically eclectic script darts through a tangle of concepts, themes and subplots. Some of these threads deliver delightfully elegant comic payoffs. (Nerd alert: Ron and Benji’s shared obsession with all things “Star Wars” culminates in a hilariously self-pitying keyboard homage to the Luke Skywalker theme.)

At times, however, the story trips over the temptation to toss in everything including the kitchen sink. A particularly rambling attempt to weave in the pop psychology of “The Paradox of Choice” doesn’t justify its stage time.

When nefarious academic-militia forces try to retrieve the stolen technology, the menace is so easily dealt with that the stakes never really rise. More to the point, the plot point unnecessarily distracts from more meaningful conflicts. Confronted with a reality altered by technology, the characters onstage are trying to do the right thing as they see it — and therein lies their charm.

Under Elina de Santos’ breezy direction, the fine performances and a strikingly original premise peel away layers of high-tech artifice to find the human heart alive and well.

♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦
‘Smart Love’
Where: Pacific Resident Theatre, 703 Venice Blvd., Venice
When: 8 p.m. Thursdays-Saturdays, 3 p.m. Sundays; ends Feb. 24
Tickets: $25-$34
Information: (310) 822-8392 or pacificresidenttheatre.com
Running time: 1 hours, 45 minutes.

January 17, 2019 Elaine Mura Entertainment

Melissa Weber Bales and Scott Conte in SMART LOVE – Photo by Jeff Lorch

Technology has crept into almost every corner of life these days, so why not into the most secret of spots, the human heart? Playwright Brian Letscher asks that question, and comes up with some fascinating answers. SMART LOVE is a contemporary twist on what makes a human human – and can an artificial human be human? Directed by Elina de Santos, SMART LOVE raises some hilarious questions – and then responds with even more uproarious replies. Mary Shelly is probably smiling from afar.

Melissa Weber Bales and Zachary Grant – Photo by Jeff Lorch

The good widow Wachowski (Melissa Weber Bales) has finally finished mourning the loss of her husband and moved on – into the arms of a more-than-willing Victor (Scott Conte). After all, her husband Ron (Michael Mantell) wasn’t exactly perfect. An inveterate inventor, Ron spent more time with his creations than he did with his lonely wife Sandy. And he never even seemed to get the idea that a dirty dish, soap, and water were inexorably bound in a necessary lifelong chore.

Michael Mantell and Zachary Grant – Photo by Jeff Lorch

Just when life seems to be on an even keel again, Sandy gets an unexpected visit from her genius son Benji (Zachary Grant), who has developed a very unusual MIT doctoral project which he wants to share with his mother. A chip off the old block, the technologically sophisticated young man has figured out how to heal his mother and make their family whole again. Enter dad – but a new and improved dad. Even if he has some quirky computer-like glitches, he still knows how to charm his stunned wife. And Benji is all set to marry them again. But wait – what about Victor? And, besides, is a computerized imitation of life, even if charming and dapper, ready to become a real husband and father?

Zachery Grant – Photo by Jeff Lorch

SMART LOVE is a thought-provoking piece (between laughs, of course) which is tailor made for today’s science – and all the ethical and practical questions which current invention may entail. But it’s really hard to ponder such weighty considerations with all the hilarious shenanigans going on. The cast is letter perfect in conveying their emotional roller coaster rides through today’s digital world. David Mauer’s set is also just right, the uninspired rooms belonging to a mundane middle class family located at the edge of a dying Midwestern city. Leigh Allen’s lighting, Christopher Moscatiello’s sound, and Elizabeth A. Cox’s costumes add to the overall ambience. And let’s not forget Myrna Gawryn’s choreography, coupled with Marwa Bernstein’s dance sequence choreography, which lends some zip to the proceedings.

Zachary Grant and Melissa Weber Bales – Photo by Jeff Lorch

SMART LOVE raises some intriguing questions while sandwiched inside a story made for chuckles. This is a light, funny, and charming play which will resonate with today’s millennials – but also with the older crowd who suspect that changes are coming fast enough to make their heads spin. And spin they will as SMART LOVE unravels before the audience’s eyes.

Michael Mantell and Scott Conte – Photo by Jeff Lorch

SPLASH SELECTION

SMART LOVE runs through February 24, 2019, with performances at 8 p.m. on Thursdays through Saturdays and at 3 p.m. on Sundays. Pacific Resident Theatre is located at 703 Venice Blvd., Venice, CA 90291. Tickets range from $25 to $34 (discounts for seniors ($3) and students ($5) on Thursdays and Fridays). For information and reservations, call 310-822-8392 or go online.

Review: Corinne Shor explores identity with style in solo piece ‘I am Sophie’
By F. Kathleen Foley
Nov 18, 2018 | 1:10 PM
Pacific Resident Theatre. (Marlow Everly / Pacific Resident Theatre)

An ebullient woman bounds onstage, chattering in French so voluble it makes one want to go back in time to those high school foreign language lessons and pay more attention.

This is Sophie (Corinne Shor), who has a French accent so thick you could cut it with a baguette knife. Full of bonhomie, joie de vivre and all those other French phrases meaning pure pleasure in life, she has recently deplaned in Minneapolis shortly before the onset of a hard winter.

It doesn’t take long for Sophie to confide her very open secret to the audience, whom she invites to become her “confidantes” throughout the brief, rollicking, poignant “I am Sophie,” a solo show directed by Susan Angelo, now at Pacific Resident Theatre.

It seems that the very French, oh so ooh-la-la Sophie is actually Kate, a Minnesotan born and bred, complete with flat accent and droning intonation. Kate gravitated to Paris a couple of years earlier and returned as the extravagant, lively, irresistible Sophie — whom she adamantly insists is the person she intends to be, now and forever.

A recent “Saturday Night Live” sketch touched on commonalities of things universally detested, including students who studied abroad and returned home with the accents of their host countries. Make no mistake. Sophie’s transformation is no mere affectation, but a deep, conscious choice that, as we later learn, keeps the drab, sad reality of her actual self at bay. But as others react with negativity and dismay, most painfully Sophie-nee-Kate’s cancer-stricken father, Shor’s play touches upon timely issues of what it means to transition into one’s authentic self, despite facing opprobrium from society and loved ones.

Sophie has been called home to run the family business during her father’s decline and, as inevitable loss follows, Shor’s initially comic play deepens into a harrowing portrait of personal grief. The overriding problem of the play, however, is that Shor’s intriguing central premise is presented so reiteratively that even the lighter-than-air, delightful Sophie wears thin on occasion. Still, Sophie’s pursuit of identity is no narcissistic exercise, but a fascinating journey into what constitutes an individual, and how one is defined not only by society but in one’s innermost self.

————-
‘I am Sophie’
Where: Pacific Resident Theatre, 705 ½ Venice Blvd., Venice
When: 8 p.m. Thursdays-Saturdays; 3 p.m. Sundays. Ends Jan. 27. No performances Nov. 22 and Dec. 20-27
Price: $25-$34
Info: (310) 822-8392 pacificresidenttheatre.com
Running time: 1 hour, 25 minutes

“I Am Sophie”: Examining the Meaning of Identity
Posted by Frances Baum Nicholson on September 1, 2018

Corinne Shor – playwright and performer of “I am Sophie,” presented by LA Vie Theatre [photo: Marlow Everly}

The entire idea of identity is one which has come increasingly to the forefront of modern conversation. What makes someone who they are? What if what they see in the mirror isn’t who they feel they are inside? What if being genuine to themselves means not being the person others have always known them to be? What may be lost in the process?

This is the core fascination with Corinne Shor’s “I am Sophie,” a one-woman show performed by the author, now at The Pico. An expansion of Shor’s initial exploration during the 2017 Hollywood Fringe Festival, the play is a monologue by a young Minnesota woman named Kate.

Kate – after spending a period in France – comes home to be near her father in his last hours having turned herself into someone else. She is Sophie. She speaks with a French accent, uses French as much or more than English, and feels freed by the entire process of reinvention. Now, when asked to be Kate, she finds it stilted and a grim denial of who she really is. Some of her family embrace the change. Some do not. It proves good for business, as she and her brother take over the shop, however, some look askance at what they see as playacting.

Director Susan Angelo gets the story beneath the story, and creates a sense of movement which keeps the whole thing from being static: enough furniture, enough costume adjustments, and generally enough business to make Sophie’s journey from discovery to comfort, to true self-acceptance animated, emotional, and consistently engaging. Shor gives to her creation a sense of light and dark and light, as Sophie must occasionally try to be Kate again, and then returns to the person she believes is her personal truth. It all works.

Of course, Sophie’s journey is a metaphor for many other journeys of discovery. As she meets with resistance, finds acceptance (her mother, embracing the change, still warns her she will “lose people” over it) and comes to terms with what her future holds, it can resonate with an audience facing any number of struggles for the self. It is that very universality which makes the play and performance work.

Take a look at “I Am Sophie,” if only to capture a lovely tale, but mostly because it is likely to make you hold up your own mirror to check who you are.

La Vie Theatre Presents “I am Sophie”
“I am Sophie” written and performed by Corinne Show, directed by Susan Angelo runs through September 2.

Running August 17 through September 2, Fridays & Saturdays at 8pm & Sunday September 2 at 5pm, August 31 & September 1 at 4pm & 8pm
“I Am Sophie” is a one women play about one woman who becomes another.

But it’s a little bit more beautifully complicated than that. Something between a fairytale and a survival guide to loss. Loss of self, loss of direction and loss of a loved one.

To set the scene we have Sophie as our guide. Born in Minnesota, re-born in Paris as a teenager on an exchange year, Sophie is the kind of vivacious, life-loving French women we dream of spending summers with in the south of France. She spirals effortlessly through her days with charming truths and deeply thought observations about her life and those around her all spoken in lyrical and loving, sweetly accented prose. Only she is not French and her alter ego Kate, whose family she cuckolds much to their confusion, is hidden away beneath the frothy and exquisite Sophie in a kind of self-imposed retreat from the realities of the life she loathes and her slowly declining and beloved father. Her family are torn between their love for Kate and their acceptance of their Kate’s Sophie. But they know only too well how Kate spent many years in deep depression and even attempted suicide. There are many subtle layers to their toleration of her choice to live as she puts it as “her truest self.”

So what is this play exactly? It’s hard to define really, it’s a puzzle, a person in a paradox unveiling themselves before us. It’s a journey through a long moment of a life. A moment of extreme distress, loss and struggle to survive. Yet “I am Sophie” is much more a cry for freedom than a cry for help. We all struggle with identity, don’t we? Are we mothers, are we daughters, are we lovers, friends, women, men, queer, alone? How we define ourselves ultimately means so much more than how others define us, although it can take a lifetime to work that out and it’s impossibly hard for some of us to ever know how to do that…I only wish there was an app.

“I am Sophie” is a beautiful, gentle, contemplative riff on who we allow ourselves to be. When we were young and unburdened by ego we happily played at being other people. We dressed up, had tea parties, pretended, mimicked and spoke in all manner of strange accents and affectations, and we felt perfectly free to do so. As we grew up we lost the ability to play, to reflect of what makes us who we are and just became what others expected us to be…even those of us who pushed the limits of that are still confined by whatever society surrounds us. So how do we let go of all that and find the best version of ourselves? Is it just as simple as speaking with an accent? Not for Sophie. She chose to save herself by moving to France and becoming the light she so desperately sought. An alternative to depression and suicide and a gift to us who watch her transfixed as she bravely navigates her new life in spite of her father’s passing and other people’s uncomfortable silences. Sophie reminds us that in the end we have only ourselves to prove anything to and in the small hours of the night when we are quite alone, that is all that truly matters.

“I am Sophie,” written and performed by the sublime Corinne Shor is a bold and fearless ode to what makes our hearts sing and saves us from the darkness…it is a strange and beguiling story, as only the best stories are, about a woman who becomes another woman not to survive but to thrive.